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Saturday, December 15, 2007

Santa's Helper & Jesus' Lamb Duke It Out

Back in the 2nd grade, I quietly went through life determined to not make waves or cause anyone discomfort. I had already discovered that because I believed in Jesus, I couldn’t help but make people squirm.

For christo’s sake: as my first show-and-tell in kindergarten, I proudly brought in my new New American Standard Bible with my name embossed on the cover, zippered up in a black vinyl jacket. Even as a five year old, I felt strongly that it was important to be proud and honest about one’s beliefs.

Anything with one's name embossed on it must be pretty important.

My parents wisely tried to discourage me, but I was determined. My classmates needed to know that I loved Jesus.

And that Jesus loved them.

A couple boys made fun of my overly sincere show-and-tell. The teacher seemed obligated to stop their giggles. I blushed.

I just wanted people to know.

I kept pretty quiet about God after that*.

I kept pretty quiet, period.

I was very, very well behaved.

And a little self-righteous.

(Be honest. Does it still show? Honey, does my self-righteousness make me look… self-righteous?)
************************

In 2nd grade, my myth-busting evil twin reared its ugly head while I was supposed to be correcting my SRA in the study room.

We lived up where the Marge highway/poster scenes in "Fargo" were filmed. It was a week or two before Christmas. Outside the dark windows, the endless winter spread out for miles and months into a godforsaken treeless tundra that gets into your marrow and never, ever, thaws.

My classmate, H-, came into the study room and started chatting about what Santa was getting her for Christmas. She’d asked him for a ton of stuff : Cabbage Patch Kids, Barbie, Rubik's Cube.

We weren’t supposed to chat while correcting our SRA’s.

Nonetheless, I felt obliged to correct her**.

“There’s no such thing as Santa Claus.”

H: “Yes, there is! I’ve seen him and talked to him. He brings me lots of presents.”

C: “No, that’s someone dressed up, pretending to be Santa Claus. Your parents buy and wrap your presents.”

H: “You don’t believe in Santa Claus?"

C: "No, I don't believe in Santa Claus."

H: "Oh my Gawd! M… did you know C doesn’t believe in Santa Claus!? Don’t you get presents for Christmas? He watches you all year and then brings you presents.”

C: “He’s pretend. Your mom and dad buy you presents. I even seen my mom and dad wrapping presents.”

H: “You’re lying. He eats my cookies. They were gone and he left tons of presents. I even saw him once when he came down my chimney. There was soot everywhere. That’s how I get my presents. That’s what my mom and dad say, and they don’t lie.”

C: “Your mom and dad do too lie. My mom and dad said there is no such person as Santa Claus. He doesn’t exist.”

H: “Yes, he does.”

C: “No, he doesn’t”

H: “Yes, he does. I don’t believe you! I’m going to tell Mrs. G- that you’re lying about Santa Claus. You shouldn’t lie because Santa can see you and will find out and you won’t get any presents.”

C: “Go ahead. She’ll say so too. Only Jesus can see you all the time.”

H: “Jesus and Santa are friends. And you’re lying.”

C: “No, I’m not. Jesus and Santa aren’t friends because Santa is pretend. Jesus isn’t pretend. My parents buy my presents. They told us Santa is pretend.”

H: “They’re lying”

C: “No, I’m right. You’re lying. Santa never came down your chimney.”

H: “Yes, he did.”

C: “No, he didn’t. I bet you don’t even have a chimney. That's so stupid... he can't fit down a chimney.”

H: “Yes, he can. Can you prove he doesn’t exist?”

C: “Ask M. There is not such thing as Santa Clause, right M?”

M: “I’ve seen Santa but I know he’s pretend. My parents said Santa is pretend.”

C: “See! I told you! Ask Mrs. G… she’ll tell you the same thing.”

H: beginning to cry “No, you’re lying! Shut up! Santa brings my presents.”

C: “Your parents buy your presents then put them under the tree.”

H: “No!”

C: “Yes!”

By this time H was totally beaten down. She didn’t know what she was up against: someone who never, ever was allowed to believe in Santa. Christmas was about Jesus being born so he could die on the cross and in three days rise again so he could save us from our sins so we could go to heaven when we died if we accepted him into our heart and were baptized and had NOTHING to do with Santa.

I popped her Santa cherry and made her cry.

We both got in trouble for talking while correcting our SRAs.

And in 2nd grade, my New American Standard Bible was already beginning to fall open to certain pages on it’s own.

*Footnote: quiet... until i started performing and writing jesus music.
**Conversation recreated as best as my elephant memory allows.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hi!

Well, you just added my greatest picture of Jesus here - why? Becouse is a closelook of my brother! Hehe...he is my brother, hehe!

Do you have any idea, who painted it? Do you have any mail to send you some photos of my brother?

Amaizing!

Bye for now,
Teja

Christine Vyrnon said...

The above comment continues to astound me.

This is where I got the pic: www.anti-santa.cz/img/zabava/SantaJesus.html

a Teo is probably a reference to the greek etymology of "atheos"... without god... godless.